


The Apology ( An Interlude )

by TheNextPage



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fix-It, Physical Abuse, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNextPage/pseuds/TheNextPage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am not a blank canvas for your displeasure and alarm. I am not a nameless, faceless mass upon which you can exert your physical strength because some aspect of my being does not suit you!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Apology ( An Interlude )

After flaring tempers subsided, after bruised egos deflated, after the gravity and enormity of the situation was conveyed, Olivia cleared the room, with Huck hanging back to ensure she would be safe. After a curt nod from her, knowing she needed privacy and space to talk to Jake, Huck withdrew to the hallway of the office to watch what would transpire between them.

Jake paced to the other side of the conference room, slamming his gun on the table and letting out a bellowing "GOD DAMNIT OLIVIA!" his back still turned to her.

She stood where he had released her, rubbing her neck and trying to make sense of what had just happened.  
They had just broken into the B6-13 system, they had shut down the operation and they had convened to celebrate this moment, after a season of heartache and uphill struggle. Then Jake had burst in, and grabbed her.

"Do you have any idea?!" He was furious, and ranting, in that eerily calm manner he possessed.

His sentences were short, his gestures and manner more pronounced, like his angry energy was shooting out through his flailing arms and quivering frame.

"You...you put your hands on me." It came out in a shaky voice, not hesitant but staccato from the shock and wonder of the assault.

"You...you walked into my office and you put your hands on me." Her hands were still absently rubbing her neck, trying to remove the ghost of his fingers curling around her throat, constricting her windpipe and reducing her to a victim, a statistic, another black female body, victim to the frustrations and aggressions of dominant, impotent males.

"YOU...PUT...YOUR...HANDS...ON...ME!" The fear and shock had worn away, replaced by passionate, righteous indignation.

"You sonofabitch! YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME!"

He was stunned. She never swore - she was so fully possessed of her mind and power, that she never lacked the proper language to enunciate her feelings or thoughts: Olivia Pope never swore. But there she was, moving towards him from the door, fire and determination blazing in her eyes, and a curse having tumbled from her lips.

"Olivia I..." he remembered himself, remembered what he had done, tried to find words to justify himself but found none. There was no excuse, no justification, no explanation for his behaviour and conduct.

"NO! You do not speak!" She was seemingly recovered, the Proud Gladiator Empress stood before him once more.  
"You do not put your hands on me. You do not put your hands, on me! I am not that person, and you do not put your hands on me!

This is my office. These people are my staff. The decisions I make are weighted and thought-through. You do not come into my office, into my space, and force violence upon me because your impotent rage has no other channels through which to express itself. I am not a blank canvas for your displeasure and alarm. I am not a nameless, faceless mass upon which you can exert your physical strength because some aspect of my being does not suit you!"

He made the mistake of opening his mouth as if to speak, as if to dare interrupt her.

"SHUT UP Jake!” She continued advancing towards him, finger pointed, fury emanating off of her in waves.

“No! You do not make excuses. You do not explain. You do not turn this around one me: because I provoked you, because I thwarted your plans, because I shut down your shop. You have no reasons. There is no excuse. YOU DO NOT PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME!"

He stood, paralysed in shame and self-recrimination. Her diminutive body was right before him, energetic zeal rippling off of her, ripping into him, withering him to his bare existence and exposing him to the weakness he succumbed to.

"I...I am so sorry. I..." He looked down, not daring to meet her gaze which left him raw and naked in his lack, that unflinching gaze that witnessed his failure.

"I..." he continued to stammer and stutter, trying to find words although he knew there were none. Trying to explain although he knew his actions were inexplicable.

"I asked you to save me...to stand..."

"NO! Don't you dare turn this on me Jacob Ballard! No! You did this. YOU DID THIS. I am a person. I am not for your pleasure or pain. I am not your reason or your excuse. I am my own! My thoughts, my beliefs, my fears are MINE! You do not enact violence, on me, and blame it on me!"   
Her even tone unnerved him more than if she had been shouting. Her impassioned rebuke cut him more deeply than any physical blow.

Dropping to his knees before her, looking up to meet her gaze, in reverent supplication he petitioned her,

"I am sorry. I was weak, and in my weakness, I lashed out at you. I thought I was in control and that control was a mirage. I thought I held ultimate power, I believed I was serving a right and just cause. I...I am still trapped in the system, just higher up in the ranks. I was entrusted with power and responsibility and I failed in my task. I...I'm trying to separate what I feel for you and what this job is bringing out in me. I..." he stopped, holding her gaze, ensuring she knew he was sincere. "I am sorry Olivia. I see no sun on the horizon and I have entirely lost my way. That wasn't me...and it was. I am not that person...and I am."

He looked away, trying to find words to convey his regret; plead for her pardon and reassure her that the B6-13 was once-more firmly contained. He prided himself on being self-aware, on not labouring under false illusions or denying who he was. His honesty to himself and with Olivia was the realest thing he held on to.

"Please Olivia, say something..."

She stood before him, sure that her unequivocal message of intolerance of his violence had reached a receptive audience. She looked down at him: head bowed, spirit cowed and remembered what her father had told her about being Command and the toll that took. There was no excuse. There was no excuse for violence.   
But he was fallible. And he was weak. And just as human as the next person. And this was his failing. And it was significant. He had not begun to atone, nor had she begun to forgive. This was merely a statement of facts, a declaration of what was and what was never again to be.

"Look at me Jake", she said, voice stern and confident, arms crossed before her – a symbolic barrier and shield.

Steeling himself, fighting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling, he met her stare. There was no sympathy - his remorse called for none. There was only a warning and a severe promise in those steady brown eyes. Hazel-green eyes blinked away regret and desperation, finding understanding but not tolerance.

"Get up Jake", she held him in her gaze, further communicating to him as he rose.

His ardent apology continued streaming in his appealing aspect, his eyes searching hers desperately for a glimpse of warmth. At his full height, looking down at her, his eyes still begged for a moment of recognition. And for a moment, in a breath and a blink, something akin to mercy crossed her face.

It wasn't forgiveness, it wasn't acceptance and it wasn't a reprieve.

It was a new understanding that saw the shortcomings and weakness that were previously so well contained. It was an acknowledgement of a gross moment. It was the start of a new chapter; what had been would never be again. It would be different. And that was better.

“Get out of my office.” She dismissed him, turning away towards her office. 

**Author's Note:**

> The start of the episode (317 i think) was utter b/s. For me to maintain my sanity and believe that Jake was a step above Fitz, I had to believe they addressed his violence. {Because it was conveniently omitted in the show, I’m gonna let Jake have a moment of humanity}
> 
> I don't watch the show anymore but I remember this really grated me! So I tried to fix it.


End file.
